Cheeto Day
by DarthEmu
Summary: Random one-shot inspired by Cheetos and a what if. Language warning.


A/N So this was inspired by Cheetos and a what if. Set sometime after F.3.A.R probably, a one-shot for entertainment purposes only. Mine, yours or Alma's.

Cheeto Day

"Goddamn it, why is the house covered in Cheeto dust and…are those shell casings? Have you been target practicing in here again? And why the hell…is that pudding on the ceiling? What the hell have you been doing while I was at work, _work_, damn it! I'm the only one supporting your sorry asses, the least you could do is clean the fucking house before I get home! _And if you don't put pants on right now I swear to God I'm going to shoot you in each nut, stomp them into paste then shove my foot so far up your ass you'll taste them on my boot!"_

Aster Michelson exchanged looks with the two deputies accompanying her as the woman's rant reached its apex. They looked amused, but wary. Good, at least the Director had shoved morons on her. Aster's vast experience with house checks told her this visit probably wouldn't amount to anything more than an overstressed, overworked mother and a loafing jackass of a father.

_Jackson always gets the exciting stuff. _She adjusted her jacket then knocked on the door.

Several minutes passed before the door was throw open by an harried, enraged, vaguely Asian looking woman. She snarled. "_What?_"

Aster held up her credentials. "Hello, I'm Aster Michelson, DFS."

The woman's face blanked then blanched. "Oh…"

_Shit, shit, shit._ Jin Sun-Kwon gripped the door, blocking as much of the interior with her body as she could. "Really, DFS?" She asked loudly, praying to any God PM heard her and reacted appropriately. She realized how ridiculous that plea was half way though and switched to begging this wasn't going to end as badly as she knew it was and please, make her scratch card the jackpot winner. Hey, if you were gonna ask for miracles. "How can I help you?"

The middle-aged brunette tucked her identification away, reading a clipboard. "Are you Ms. Sundance?"

_Goddamn Fettel._ "Yes, that's me." She eyed the two cops on her porch critically. Standard issue sidearms still holstered, mace, nightsticks, God, please keep PM from shooting them in the face the moment they step inside.

"We've had several…alarming calls about possible child endangerment. May we come in?"

"Do I have a choice?" Jin asked dryly.

"No."

_Goddamn neighbors._ "Fine."

She led the way into the living room where PM was cleaning pudding off the ceiling. He was accomplishing this by balancing on one foot on three stacked ammo cases which were stacked on the board cinder block coffee table. Even in stained Justice League lounge pants, full beard, tangled hair, and dusted with Cheeto crumbs, he was an impressive sight without a shirt. All flexing muscle and intense concentration. They all stopped and admired the sight before Michelson cleared her throat.

PM back-flipped off the containers, grabbing one and hurling it into the male cop's head. Before it even impacted he flew forward, nailing Michelson in a flying tackle.

"Whoa, whoa, no, no, bad, no tackling!" Jin leapt forward, prying at his arm. "She's not a threat!" _Yet._

He blinked then released the woman from the chokehold. Jin helped her to her feet, dusting orange off her.

"Sorry about that. He startles easily…war vet, you know."

"I certainly don't." Michelson sputtered, holding her clipboard up like a shield. She glanced at the cop writhing on the floor. "Are you alright?"

"Gah, fuck, it hit me right in the eye!"

"He's fine." The female cop said, eyes never leaving PM's pectorals, drooling a little. Understandable.

"I'm bleeding!"

"Oh, you are," Jin shrugged. "You want a bandaid? We have Elmo ones."

"He's fine."

"I feel dizzy."

"Quit being such a whiner."

"You want a juice box?"

"wha…yeah."

Jin nodded at PM. "Get him a juice box."

He disappeared silently.

"Who is he?" Female cop, her nameplate said Dobbs, asked in a hushed tone.

"Er," What were they calling him now? Something from a kids' show. "That's my husband, Perry."

"Oh." Dobbs looked infinitely disappointed and jealous. Jin smirked.

PM, Perry, returned with a cherry-kiwi juice box and handed it to the other officer, Calvert.

Michelson had used the time to compose herself and her hair. She tossed hairspray, comb and hairdryer back in her purse and cleared her throat again.

"How many children do you have?"

"None."

Elfe choose that moment to bound into the room in full sugar crazed mode. She wore a Batman shirt, Supergirl panties, striped knee highs, and tinted biker goggles all of which appeared to have been dunked in a giant bag of Cheetos. _Goddamn Cheeto day._

Black hair flying, she sprinted to Perry, yanked down his pants, screamed "Genitals!", giggled hysterically then bolted into the kitchen, squealing "Gobsters!"

Michelson turned fuchsia.

Calvert choked his straw.

Dobbs started hyperventilating.

"Goddamn it, Fettel!"

Perry calmly pulled up his pants.

When it was safe, Aster lowered her clipboard. "No children?"

"She's his sister, half-sister." Ms. Sundance said as she shoved an empty Cheeto bag at Dobbs. Dobbs breathed fast into the bag, eyes glued to Perry's abs. Calvert continued to choke, gesturing frantically at his throat.

"I see. Do any other children live here?"

"Depends on your definition of 'children'," The woman muttered then smiled brightly. "Nope, just that little darling."

Calvert fell to his knees, face an unflattering blue. Perry frowned at him then gave his back a whack so hard Aster heard his spine pop. The juice box straw torpedoed out of his mouth, lodging in the far wall.

Dobbs lowered her bag, circle of orange around her mouth. "Are you guys having problems? Considering separation?"

Perry seemed puzzled by the question. Sundance grinned hugely, wrapping her arms around his bicep. "Nope, we are hap-happily married, aren't we, snookums?"

He tilted his head, twisting a lock of hair absently and half a gummy bear fell out of his hair.

"What is the little girl, your sister's name?" Aster asked, wanting to get through this and back outside where things were slightly more sane.

"Elfe." Sundance answered. "He doesn't talk."

"Oh." Dobbs said achingly, Cheeto bag clasped to her chest. Calvert was still on his knees, pressing discarded takeout napkins to his bleeding head and coughing loudly.

"I see." Aster said over the officer's racket. "And do her parents live here as well?"

"Her father does."

"Is he here?"

"Physically, sure."

"Would you bring him out so I can talk to him?"

"Not the best idea…he works nights…very cranky if woken up early."

"I'd like to talk to Elfe now."

"Um, could you come back later, she's,"

Aster tapped her clipboard in an authoritative matter. "Now, Ms. Sundance."

"Wel,"

Gunfire erupted from the kitchen.

"Give me my toast, you bastards!"

_Well Becket's up._ "Goddamn it, I told you to take _all_ his guns." Jin hissed at Perry. His look said 'riiiiggghhhttt'.

Calvert was fumbling blindly at his belt while Dobbs pulled her gun and eyed Jin speculatively.

Michelson looked flabbergasted. "That was gunfire!"

"TV, excuse me." Jin bolted into the kitchen. Becket was standing by the sink, murdered toaster at his feet, pistol in combat position, eyes on the dishwasher. At least he was wearing more than gloves this time though his fatigues looked about ready to circle his ankles. Elfe was sitting at the table, merrily coloring all over the mail and morning newspaper, her rat on her shoulder nibbling on a Cheeto. Fettel possessed Hank was sitting on the refrigerator, juggling hand grenades and humming _Orinoco Flow._

"Elfe, I've told you not to watch shows like that," Jin said sternly, gesturing urgently at Fettel to take Becket back to his room.

"I know this one," Fettel snapped his fingers, dropping the grenades. "Seizure victim."

"_Get him out of here you glorified poltergeist or I tell him you work for you know who. And put some pants on._"

He rolled his glowy orange eyes, but hopped down. While he coaxed Becket away from the appliances, Jin kicked the toaster toward the backdoor.

"Good Lord!"

Jin whirled to see the horrified social worker in the archway then realized the kitchen was a disaster area of bullet ridden cabinets, empty pudding cups, pizza boxes, Oreo containers and Cheeto bags.

"Yes, He is," Jin declared, stealthily kicking a loose grenade behind the trash. "We are a very religious household, no work on Sundays."

"It's Wednesday."

"In the Gregorian calendar."

"That, rat!"

"He's a pet." Jin assured her. "Totally tame…just don't try to touch him."

Michelson looked shell-shocked then furiously scribbled on her papers. Damn, and Jin was just starting to like this house.

"Hello, Elfe, my nam-"

"I drew my family, Aster!" Elfe beamed, holding up the water bill. "There's my brothers, P and P, there's Daddy and there's mother. I put you in too Jin-Jin."

Jin glimpsed the picture and mentally started packing. "Great." Elfe was eerily good at drawing, well she was eerie period, but her skills with crayons were interesting. It this little family portrait, P and P were center stage wielding machine guns. P two also had little waves coming off him, quite accurate. Daddy appeared to have just been freed from a chair and was holding a pistol. All were firing at a hazy, naked woman and red dressed little girl that was of course mommy dearest. Crayon Jin was in the far corner in some kind of truck, typing on a computer.

Michelson was speechless for a few beats. "Is that you…are they shooting at you too?"

"Don't be silly." Elfe said in her 'you're an idiot' voice. "That's mother."

Jin laughed slightly manically. "Kids! She's got an imagination, ha, God you do _not_ want to know the things she thinks up," She coughed. "It was a bad divorce, very, veerryyy bitter, long, long custody battle, lots and lots of therapy needed, you know how it goes, Elfe's handling it very well though. Nothing to worry about here."

The woman scowled at her then smiled at Elfe. "That's very well drawn, Elfe. How old are you?"

"Four right now, but next week I be eight!"

"I see. And what are your brothers' names?"

"Pemie ooo _yes, yes,_ Perry Mann and Paxton goddamn it, Fettel Hank."

Michelson looked at Jin and she coughed. "So who takes care of you during the day, honey?"

"Hmm," Elfe tilted her head, twisting a lock of hair absently and a squashed gummy bear fell out of her hair. "Pemie and Daddy. I help Pemie clean his guns and make boom-booms then we watch cartoons."

"…and what does your Daddy do?"

"He cleans his guns a lot and makes birds outta beer cans."

"He drinks a lot of beer?"

"No."

"Where do the cans come from?"

"I get 'em out of the neighbors' trash for him. Jin-jin said a hobby might help tightened his wing nuts back up."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, but I think mother took all his wing nuts."

"Where's your mommy now?"

"Hell I hope."

"Well now." Jin clapped her hands together. "You've talked to her, she's fine. Have a nice drive." She said this as she dragged the woman back into the living room. Elfe bounced along after them, rat in her hair. Perry looked at them curiously as Dobbs measured his calf. Calvert was examining the mech suit in the corner.

"How did,"

Michelson dug her heels in. "Ms. Sundance, you can't seriously think I believe that."

"For your sake I do."

"There are bullet holes in the walls! The floor is coated in Cheetos and Oreos! This is not a healthy environment for a child! Do you even have proof of guardianship?"

"Er."

Michelson shook her head. "I think it's in the best interests of Elfe if she comes with me then," She reached for Elfe's arm.

"Don't!" Jin screamed too late. Perry flying tackled Michelson, snarling viciously.

Dobbs pulled Elfe away from the fray, unfortunately toward the door. Wind tore through the house, shattering glass and ripping at skin. Jin drew her shotgun, ducking a shoe.

"Goddamn it!"

Shadows were pooling on the floor, growing, growing, "_Fucking shit, Becket get in here!"_ Jin fired into the flickering shadow reaching for Calvert, it dissipated then reformed. Dobbs was shrieking, clawing at her face, gouging her own eyes. Calvert was firing wildly in all directions, screaming, 'wha, fuc, wha,'. Michelson was wailing something in Spanish. Perry was wrestling the automatic grenade launcher from behind the couch. The ceiling cracked, plaster falling, and a blackness began to swirl in the webbing.

Becket walked, no strolled into the room, said, "Elfe." and just like that everything stopped.

"Daddy," Elfe cried, leaping into ready arms. "Aster want take me away!"

"No one's taking you away." He said quite sanely then shot Michelson in the face. He smiled at Elfe. "See, baby, Aristide keeps coming back, but I'll always get the bitch."

His daughter hugged him tightly. "Love you, Daddy."

Perry gave him a disgruntled look, wiping brain matter off his arm. Dobbs was no longer screaming. Jin realized that was because her partner had managed to shoot her in the chest three times. Well, that's what she got ogling other people's pretend spouses.

"Wha, fuc, wha, fucking what the fuck!" Calvert kept babbling, shaking like a leaf.

"Calm down, it's,"

Fettel walked in, pants on, scowling with shimmering with psychic energy. "Did I miss it all?"

Calvert squeaked and shot him four times.

Poor Hank's very dead body dropped to the floor leaving Fettel's disgusted spirit behind. "Goddamn it, I liked that body."

Calvert ran shrieking from the house.

"Who wants ice cream?"

Why do I put up with this?

Because my brother has such skilled hands and takes orders so well.

Fettel, I swear next time you possess a body, I'm dropkicking you in the genitals.

Genitals!


End file.
